


the price of our freedom is blood in the water

by thatsmygvn (cougarlips)



Series: TWD Requests [30]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Comic Spoilers, POV Third Person, Past Character Death, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 19:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12514928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cougarlips/pseuds/thatsmygvn
Summary: Why was he sitting in his bedroom, alone, feeling like the rug was about to be pulled from under his feet?prompt: "You're trembling."





	the price of our freedom is blood in the water

**Author's Note:**

> title is from the song ["what are we fighting for"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jWSWNASGyMA) by the federal empire, which i highly rec everyone listen to bc it's too good

It was over. It was  _all_  over. All the stress, all the pain, all the suffering at the hands of Negan and the Saviors. Maggie was safe. The Hilltop was safe. Alexandria was safe. The Kingdom was safe. The casualties had been great on every side but no one’s death had been in vain, and anyone, if given a chance, would choose to risk their lives again for the peace they finally lived.

And yet inside his trailer, Jesus found himself lost in time, unsure what to do. He sat on his bed with his chin in his hands, brows knit together, eyes locked at the same stain on his floor that had always been there and caught his eye when his mind ran faster than he had time to comprehend his thoughts.

It was the first day of the supposed peace treaty’s negotiations. Leaders from each group were supposed to meet and discuss their options, what the trade agreements were to be, how the peace was to be kept to maintain some semblance of harmony among all four groups. It was unanimously agreed that the Hilltop would be the best setting for the job, but no one could quite tell if that choice was made to make it easier on Maggie’s steadily progressing pregnancy or if they felt Barrington House’s past historical impact would make their decision feel more legitimate.

But Jesus excused himself from Maggie’s side as they stood inside Barrington House’s foyer, locking eyes with Enid when she looked at him and communicating privately in a way they'd begun to learn how to do.

 _Keep an eye on her_ , he seemed to say.

 _I_ should _keep an eye on_ you _,_  she replied silently.

Maggie, however, didn’t question him as he made his way out of the room, only laid her hand on his shoulder as he passed with a beaming smile.

He was grateful –  _truly_  grateful – for the end to their collective nightmare. He owed Rick and Maggie and Michonne and their entire family, Alexandria, his life and then some. He didn’t regret a single decision he made on their behalf, not a single mission or reconnaissance run. He didn’t regret a single life he took.

So why was he sitting in his bedroom, alone, feeling like the rug was about to be pulled from under his feet?

When a pair of echoing knocks sounded on his door, he felt more than heard himself clear his throat, run his hands over his face, and make to stand up. When Daryl stepped through the doorway, though, he stopped.

Daryl closed the door behind him and leaned against it. “Dwight’s here,” he said, his voice low.

Jesus hummed. For a split second, he wondered where his motivation to get up and join Maggie went, but then he scoffed – the sound barely audible, felt more in his chest – and pressed his head in his hands.

Neither of them said a word. More time passed, invaluable minutes that Jesus  _should_  have spent at Maggie’s side and Daryl at Rick’s, but it didn’t feel like either of them could have gone into their positions even if they wanted to.

Then, Daryl pushed himself away from the door and stopped just short of Jesus’s still sitting figure. He dropped a sheet of paper on the spot on the floor where Jesus still couldn’t look away from, and when he spoke it was muffled. Jesus knew if he looked up he would see Daryl with his thumbnail in his mouth, worrying at the dry and dead skin there like he always did when he got nervous and didn’t want anyone to know.

“If you’re wonderin’ if it gets easier… it don’t,” he mumbled. “What we fight  _for_ … that’s what keeps us goin’.”

He turned around and left, the door shutting behind him almost inaudibly, and then Jesus reached down for the paper Daryl left in his wake: Maggie’s first ultrasound. On the back of it, though, he found a series of names. None of them rang familiar to him at first – Amy, Andrea, Sophia, T-Dog, and Tyreese among dozens of others, some of them so worn it was almost difficult to read – but then he found Glenn’s name, and Abraham’s, and Sasha’s. Theirs were the clearest of all.

If when he finally joined Maggie, Rick, Michonne, Daryl, King Ezekiel, Carol, and Dwight in what used to be Gregory’s office his eyes were red-rimmed and his fingers trembled, no one brought it up. 

Daryl met his eyes from across the room, though, and he nodded once at Jesus.

**Author's Note:**

> requested by an anon on tumblr bc i opened requests up for a bit the other day. i'm user [@thatsmygvn](//thatsmygvn.tumblr.com) and i write sometimes i guess ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


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